


Of a Mingled Yarn

by Leela



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, tourfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy hates this shit when they're on the road. Hates sneaking around and feeling like the other woman, when he's not because there are three of them in the bed; even if all they do is sleep in some countries, because none of them want to end up on the news or worse, in jail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of a Mingled Yarn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dude__ette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dude__ette/gifts).



> **Betas** : Minxie, Aislinntlc
> 
>  **A/N** : A belated birthday gift for @dude_ette, who wanted her OT3. Thank you for all the encouragement and everything else you know so well. 
> 
> "The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together."  
> — William Shakespeare, _All's Well That Ends Well_ , Act IV, scene iii,

"No more pictures," Tommy says when Sauli sits down beside him. "I've had enough fucking cameras waved in my face for one day."

"Just one for me, muru." 

"And if I say no?"

"I'm sure I'll come up with something." Sauli glances around and smirks at him. "Nobody else'll see what I do, after all."

"Asshole." Tommy sticks out his tongue at Sauli, then sighs. Because he really did screw himself. He picked this spot on purpose, simply because it was hidden away from the rest of the afterparty. 

"And yet you love me." Sauli reaches out and presses his thumb against Tommy's lower lip, pulling it free of his teeth. "Yes?"

"Yes." 

"Smile," Sauli says, holding his phone out at arms-length. 

"No."

"Fine. Don't smile."

Tommy starts smiling despite himself, so he brings his hands up to hide his mouth just as Sauli snaps the picture. "Serves you right," he says. 

"Hmmm. Perhaps." Sauli tilts his head and looks at his phone screen. "Although I'm not complaining," he adds and then shows the picture to Tommy. It's good, even Tommy can't deny that no matter how much he'd like to. 

"I like that." Adam leans over the back of Sauli's chair, resting his chin on Sauli's shoulder. "You should tweet it." 

"You think?" Resting his head against Adam's, Sauli contemplates the picture.

"I think." Adam's hand comes to rest low on Tommy's back, warm, reassuring, and invisible to anyone else in the room. "But first you should come back to the table. People are starting to notice that you're missing." 

"I don't wanna," Tommy blurts out, and then immediately feels like he's five years old again. It's all he can do not to roll his eyes at himself. He reaches up to tug at his bangs and forces himself to smooth them back into place instead of ruffling them up. He wants another shower and to have a drink without a stranger taking notes and tweeting about what he's doing. And if it's this bad for him, he can't fucking imagine how Adam and Sauli are still smiling, because it's a thousand times worse for them.

"Not for too much longer, I promise," Adam says, rubbing a circle into Tommy's back before he stands up. "But our hosts want to say a few words and were asking where my fiery guitar player and—" Adam curls his upper lip "— _special_ friend are."

There's nothing to say to that, at least not here where they can be easily overheard, but Tommy can't help himself. "I fucking hate this shit some days." 

"And yet," Sauli says, thumbing off his phone, "you wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world." 

"Fuck off." There's no heat behind Tommy's words, and Sauli and Adam clearly know it. He lets himself touch them for a moment — his fingers trailing across Adam's bare wrist and Sauli's neck — before he says, "Fine. Let's do it."

It ends up taking another round of drinks, a lot of laughter, real and faked, and way too many more fucking photographs, before Tommy can safely slip away. By that point, he's sitting next to Ashley, who's got her head on his shoulder and has been very quiet for the last few minutes. 

He puts an arm around her and whispers, "You look like you're crashing. Wanna head back to the hotel with me?"

"You're going without—" Before he can shush her, Ashley lifts her head and yawns. "Yeah, okay. I'm ready." 

Goodbyes take another few minutes, and then they're in a car with a driver and security guards. It's not safe to talk there or for Tommy to do anything but go to his hotel room. 

Ashley tugs on his hand as they pause in front of her door. After a glance at the security guards, who are still loitering by the elevators, she moves in closer, rising up on her toes, as if to kiss his cheek, and murmurs, "Just take care of yourself, okay?"

She's gone and has closed the door behind her before he can ask what she means. Then again, he's not sure he wants to even think about it. So he goes next door to his hotel room, waving at the security guards as they duck into the elevator.

Once inside, he heads for the bathroom to remove his makeup and take a quick shower. When that doesn't bring the text he's waiting for, he pulls on his last pair of clean jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt that passes the sniff test. Then, as a last resort, he tosses his suitcase on the bed, starts picking his clothes up from around the room, and making a half-assed attempt at folding them. He gets halfway through that before his phone plays the opening bars of his own very special version of Enter Sandman.

 _Fucking finally_ , he thinks, as he checks his texts. They're on their way, which means he only has a few minutes to get upstairs and into their suite before security arrives. He abandons his half-packed suitcase and his room without a backward glance.

\|/

As soon as he's in their suite, Tommy ducks into the bathroom. Adam's security occasionally peeks into the rooms and gives them a quick once-over, but never the bathroom. On the rare occasion that it looks like they might, Sauli always makes a quick dash for it and shuts the door in their faces. That hasn't failed them so far.

Dropping the lid down, Tommy sits on the can. He fiddles with his phone for a bit before texting Sauli to confirm where he is. All he can do now is fucking wait. Not his favorite thing to do when he can't fucking do anything but stay quiet.

And think, which is pretty much the last damn thing he wants to do right now. He hates this shit when they're on the road. Hates sneaking around and feeling like the other woman, when he's not because there are three of them in the bed; even if all they do is sleep in some countries, because none of them want to end up on the news or worse, in jail.

It can be bad enough at home, when they have to dodge paps and random fans with cameras. The way the paps ignore him and everyone else who isn't famous, Tommy figures most people assume Adam and Sauli go everywhere by themselves and don't ever go out with friends, and that's just fine by him. He doesn't have to keep to himself unless Adam's got a red carpet or some other PR gig going that doesn't require the band, and Tommy's just as happy giving all that attention a miss anyway.

A stray thought crosses Tommy's mind, driving him to check his phone again. Then he mutes it because he's a fucking idiot who forgot to do that. He digs his earbuds out of his front pocket, goes to put them in, before deciding that's a stupid idea; he needs to be able to hear Adam and Sauli come in. Shoving the earbuds back into his pocket almost pushes his jeans down off his ass. He's standing up, yanking on his jeans one-handed because he doesn't want to put his phone down, when he hears the door open. 

"Thank you," Adam says, loud enough for his voice to carry. "We're fine now." 

Someone else, the guard Tommy assumes, says, "We must check, Mr. Lambert."

After a moment's pause, Sauli calls out, "Must go," and then he comes racing in, slamming the door closed behind him and locking it. 

"Now they decide to be professionals," Sauli mutters into Tommy's shoulder as he presses against him. "Why couldn't they do that before?"

Tommy hugs Sauli, and Sauli snuggles even closer. They stand like that for a few minutes before Adam knocks on the door. 

"Guys, they're gone, and you've gotta let me in," Adam says, with that edge of panic to his voice that means he's been holding it for too long. 

After giving Tommy a quick squeeze, Sauli pulls away to unlock the door. He almost doesn't manage to get out of the way when Adam barrels in.

Tommy slips out of the bathroom and goes over to the window, pulling the curtains back just far enough to see through the window. A sharp pain lodges itself in his chest. From the height, he's fucking sure. The lights of the city are much too far below him. He bites his lip and tightens his hold on the curtains.

"Hey, baby."

"Hey." Tommy glances at Adam, then looks back at the window. He feels weird and out of sorts, disconnected from Adam and Sauli. Like he doesn't belong even though he knows they both want him there. It doesn't make any sense, but there he is, fucked up over something that only exists in his own mind yet again. His fucking brain, some days he hates it beyond reason.

Adam doesn't wait for him, and neither does Sauli. They move in on either side of Tommy, surrounding him with their warmth. After a few seconds, Adam lowers his head and kisses Tommy, gentle at first, a mere touch of lips. Nowhere near enough to ease the ache inside Tommy, so he parts his lips and licks into Adam's mouth.

As Adam takes over the kiss, presses him against Sauli, Tommy's head goes back over Sauli's shoulder. Sauli holds him, kisses Tommy's and Adam's faces, touches them wherever he can reach. 

It's an invasion that goes deep into Tommy's soul, curls around his heart, makes him feel less weird, more connected. It's everything he wants, everything he needs. It's why he does this, why he fits with them and why they fit with him.

Sauli moans, and Adam's lips slide sideways to Sauli's mouth. The kiss grows, dances between the three of them, lips to lips to lips. Soft and sweet, never deepening or becoming more than a press of lips and a lick of tongues. Totally not what Tommy wants from them right now. 

He reaches back to clutch at Sauli's hip with one hand and holds on to Adam's shirt with the other, needing to ground himself. But it's still not enough to really feel part of them. He nips at Sauli's bottom lip, then turns and sucks a temporary mark onto the edge of Adam's jaw.

Slotting a hand against Tommy's throat, Adam crowds into him, trapping Tommy's arm between them and pushing him hard against Sauli. Adam's fingers dig into Tommy's jaw, holding his head in place. 

"What's wrong?"

It's stupid, but there's no way Tommy wants to explain, so he just shrugs it off. "Nothing. I'm good."

Adam raises an eyebrow and gives him _that_ look, the one that says _I don't believe you, but I'm going to let you get away with it for now_. 

Before Tommy can come up with something to distract Adam, there's a knock on the suite door. They break apart instinctively, and Tommy steps away from them. 

"We could ignore it," Sauli says. 

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Like that's worked so well for us before."

"If it's another fan, I'm going to kill the security guards." Adam stalks over the bedroom door. "I might just kill them for the hell of it. I told them to keep everyone out." The door closes behind him with a distinct snick.

"I don't envy whoever it is." 

"Whatever." Giving Sauli and the closed door a sour look, Tommy goes over and drops down on the bed. Somehow he feels even more fucked up than he did before.

"Stop that." Sauli sits down beside him and runs a thumb over the vertical line between Tommy's eyebrows. "You shouldn't worry so much."

It's such a familiar comfort that Tommy's leaning in towards Sauli before he even registers that he's moved. When Sauli combs his fingers through Tommy's hair, Tommy presses his forehead against Sauli's shoulder. Some of the tension leaves him in a wave of goosebumps that prickle over his skin, moving from his head to his toes. He exhales and closes his eyes, tries his best to relax into Sauli's touch, only to tense up again when Adam stalks back into the room.

"Management insisted on thanking me for staying at their hotel." Adam twirled his forefinger in the air and made a face. "Yay?"

"Management are stupid. The guards are even more stupid," Sauli says. "Now get your ass over here. Tommy needs us." 

"No." Tommy pushes himself up onto his knees, intending to get up and move away from the bed, but Sauli kneels up too.

"Yes." Sauli taps a finger on the end of Tommy's nose. "I don't like it when those I love are unhappy."

"Me either." Adam slides onto the bed on his knees, creating a triangle. He puts an arm around each of Tommy and Sauli and pulls them closer. "What's going on?"

"Tommy's thinking again."

The look on Adam's face makes Tommy want to reassure him, but he can't do that. He can't — won't — ever lie to Adam or Sauli. "Fucking hiding," he says.

Averting his eyes, staring at the duvet between them, Adam takes a deep breath before looking up again. "You don't have to hide. Not if you don't want to. We'll work it out."

The thought, the idea that Adam would do that, would rather do that than lose him, rocks Tommy physically, emotionally, in every possible fucking way. He lets go of Adam and Sauli and shakes his head, because _Fuck No_.

"I would," Adam says, because he just doesn't know when to shut the fuck up. "For you. For Sauli. For us."

"No, you won't." Tommy's voice is rough with all the emotion he couldn't put into words to save his life. "You fucking asshole." 

Neither of them respond. Adam ducks his head and looks away. Sauli mutters something in Finnish and reaches for Adam. They shift closer together, becoming more of a couple than two sides of a triangle, shutting Tommy out, making him feel like a third wheel all over again. 

"Don't." Adam catches Tommy's hand, pulls it to his chest, and Sauli wraps his hand over top and holds it there.

Tommy sucks his lower lip into his mouth and digs his teeth into it. The slight pain doesn't help this time. His entire body is still focused on their hands and the way they're holding his. He can't fucking believe they mean this, but this doesn't give him any choice except to believe them. 

"Fuck you," he mutters. "Just fuck you." Then he shuffles forward until he's right up against them and leans his head on Sauli's shoulder. "You really shouldn't, you know? Really fucking shouldn't." 

"Love you, too," Adam says.

It's like Tommy's smile comes from somewhere deep inside him. He can't fight it, can't stop it from curving his lips or crinkling the skin around his eyes, even if he wanted to. Instead he gives it to them, kisses each of them with lips that are still smiling. Then he falls backwards onto the bed, holding onto them, pulling them down on either side of him. 

"Assholes," he says, as his smile seems to get even bigger. "You're damn fucking lucky I love you." 

Adam leans up on one elbow and grins back at him. Then he kisses Sauli right over Tommy, and they're so fucking hot together that Tommy still has a hard time believing they're his, that they want him in this. He can see their lips touch, their tongues thrusting into each other's mouths, hear their breathing quicken, feel Adam's intensity and Sauli's joy. Tommy's toes curl as Adam licks Sauli's lips, as Sauli sucks on Adam's tongue. 

Needing more, Tommy twists until he can kiss Adam's neck. He sucks lightly, raising a mark that fades almost immediately, before trailing his lips down Adam's chest, undoing each button as he reaches it until he can't get any further down.

"Too many clothes." Tommy tugs at Adam's shirt, and the next button rips free. "Oops."

"Damn it. I like this shirt." 

"That makes one of us." A grin on his face, Sauli reaches down and pulls on Adam's shirt, tearing it open the rest of the way, sending buttons pinging off the headboard. "Even your fans will thank us for destroying it."

"No taste at all. None of you." 

Adam's lower lip sticks out in a pout that Tommy can't resist sucking on. It draws a moan from Adam, and Sauli demands his turn. Then it's Tommy kissing Sauli, being kissed by Adam, watching them kissing each other. He touches and is touched, shivering with need, as they pop buttons, open zippers, shove down pants and underwear, until there's finally bare skin. 

After that, every touch of lips and hands sends sparks skittering over Tommy's skin and down his spine. Sauli's skin is smooth, almost hairless, and Tommy can't help but drag his blunt nails over it, scratching lightly. He kisses his way down Adam's chest, soft hairs occasionally catching against his slightly chapped lips. The freckles taste like joy to Tommy, the moment when notes collide and music is born. 

They roll and roll, and Tommy ends up underneath them. Adam slides down and pushes Tommy's legs open, sucks on his inner thigh at the same time as Sauli tugs on one of Tommy's nipples with his teeth. Again and again, over and over, Tommy's claimed, marked, everywhere but his dick and balls, until he's almost high on sensation. His hips buck as he tries to rub his dick against something, and he clutches at the covers, incoherent sounds wrung from him with every touch of their mouths and hands.

"Hold him," Adam says, and then he pushes Sauli on top of Tommy. 

"Yeah." Tommy forces himself to let go of the covers and runs his hands up Sauli's sides, pulling him down and lining up their dicks.

"Which one of you?" Adam asks, and then laughs when Tommy and Sauli say, "him" at the same time. 

"No, seriously," Adam says. "Pick one." 

Tommy looks into Sauli's eyes and can almost feel his need. He puts a finger over Sauli's lips. "Sauli, but I want to fucking feel it."

"No," Sauli says, shaking off Tommy's finger. "Both of us. We need this, to feel... to _be_ connected."

The word _connected_ sends a wave of heat, of want and need, through Tommy that ends in his dick and balls, and he spreads his legs further apart to try and ease the ache. "Fuck," he mutters. Then, a second later, when the image of what they're about to do hits home, he says "Bottom. I fucking call it," almost panting with the sudden need to have them, on top of him.

There's a pause after that, a few seconds when they lift off Tommy and he's alone again, gripping the duvet to hold himself in place, keep himself there. And, when it starts, it's a chain reaction. Sauli pushes a finger barely coated with lube into Tommy's hole, even as Adam's doing the same to Sauli. 

They thrust and twist, using just enough lube to ease entry, to let the stretch burn enough for Tommy to feel Sauli's fingers inside him, and the aftershocks of Adam pressing his fingers inside Sauli. Adding more, increasing the stretch, the burn, until Tommy's head is back and his hips are moving and he's fucking himself on Sauli's fingers, on Adam's. 

"Now," Adam says, and the fingers are gone. 

Tommy wants to curse them, wants them back, filling his emptiness, but he can't resist the look in Adam's eyes. So he swallows down the words as he brings his legs up and rests his feet on Sauli's shoulders. 

The head of his dick against Tommy's hole, Sauli kisses the inside of Adam's bicep and the back of Tommy's thigh. It's too fucking gentle, and Tommy snaps his teeth, but Sauli just smiles at him.

Adam thrusts inside Sauli, pushing Sauli inside Tommy, pressing Tommy's legs down, shoving him into the mattress. It's hard, fast, and not-quite-painful, and Tommy's never been so fucking glad that they've tested clean often enough to bareback. He fucking loves this shit, loves feeling them. Loves them.

The thought rocks into Tommy, and he bucks his hips up, meeting Sauli and Adam stroke for stroke, matching their beat. He doesn't have words, so he lets the sounds escape him, the odd moans and incoherent syllables that he normally traps inside. 

Still they move, faster and faster, and Tommy's shaking inside and out. Needing to touch them both, he clutches at Sauli's arm, moves a foot to Adam's chest. He's got nothing to spare for his dick, but the pressure grows and grows, until pins and needles and sharp spikes of _want need fuck_ rush through him in waves. He can feel his ass clenching around Sauli's dick, hear Sauli whispering their names, see the world darkening at the edges of his vision, as he comes.

Tommy's barely breathing again when Adam pushes Sauli down on top of him. He presses his lips against Sauli's temple, wraps his legs around Sauli's thighs, keeping him open, as Adam shakes apart inside Sauli, on top of him. They lie like that, breathing heavily, no longer connected. But Tommy's bearing both of their weights, and it's nearly goddamn perfect. 

And when it's almost too much, when Tommy's chest starts to hurt when he breathes, Adam shifts and moves them around until Adam's in the middle with Tommy and Sauli curled up on either side. Tommy's grateful for the silence, as he listens to Adam and Sauli drift off to sleep, because it means he doesn't have to find words for anything.

Reaching over, Tommy runs his hand over Sauli's lean hardness, skin over muscle over bone, and then caresses Adam's softer, warmer skin. _Mine_ , he thinks, and it's part wonder, part joy, and part absolute fucking fear of losing this thing, these men who have somehow become intertwined with the music of his soul.

\|/

The next morning, Tommy wakes up to Adam stumbling over a suitcase, hopping around the room.

"Motherfucking thing," Adam growls as he collapses onto the bed. "I better not have fucking broken my toe."

"You didn't." Sauli pokes his head in from the living room. "And now that you've woken Tommy up, no excuses. Get ready so we don't miss our plane."

"And get me tea," Tommy adds, rolling out of bed and heading for the bathroom. 

There's a fancy china cup on the bedside table when he gets back, filled almost to the brim with black tea. He doesn't try to lift it, just bends over and blows carefully on the surface before taking a loud slurp. It's almost too hot and too strong, and absolutely perfect.

He gets dressed, then sits back on the bed, piling all the pillows behind him, and watches them run around. Adam's still tugging on his hair when there's a knock at the door and a call to let them know that the car's downstairs. That gets Tommy to his feet and shuffling into a three way hug. 

"Be safe." Tommy kisses each of them in turn, first Sauli and then Adam. The kisses are quick and sweet, barely even a lick of tongue. 

After they've gone, after his phone buzzes with a _Safe_ text from the elevator, he does a last circuit of the suite to make sure they haven't left anything behind, and heads downstairs. Ashley's stretched out on the bed, waiting for him, the door standing open between their rooms. His suitcase is packed and his travel clothes are lying on a chair.

Her hug isn't the same as Adam's and Sauli's, but Tommy holds her tight anyway.

"It's good," he says, and she smiles in that easy way she has. 

She stays with Tommy through breakfast and all through the long trip home. And if he occasionally presses a finger against one of the bruises left by Adam and Sauli, she pretends he hasn't done anything strange, just distracts him with a question or a movie or a stupid idea for a Keek.

And even though there's no one waiting for him at the airport, just a cab driver to keep him company on the way home, he can't help but think that life is damn good.


End file.
